Jaune and his Fussy Friend
by ChocolateConfectionaries
Summary: In which Jaune's peace and quiet is interrupted by a fussy friend.
1. Chapter 1

Purple eyes carefully pored through the contents of the lit screen, brief clicking noise from his mouse intermittently resounding throughout the quaint, empty bedroom.

'_Hm… Looks nice, but you never know. It might be fake with how cheap it is_,' its lone inhabitant pondered. '_Let's find another one - but I'll bookmark this, just in case_.'

Satisfied, he returned to the home screen with another click.

It wasn't everyday that Jaune Arc had time purely for himself. For lowly college students such as he, "free time" is an illusion: Minutes not spent listening to dry lectures in the hallowed halls of Beacon University were devoted either to studying for the next gauntlet of tests or coercing his partner into writing the other half of their thesis - when he wasn't working shifts at a local coffee shop, of course.

But sometimes, perhaps once in a blue moon, the gods would cut him and his peers some slack. Sometimes, Professors "Emdee" Port and Goodwitch would leave for a conference one morning and not return until a week later. Sometimes, Cardin would listen to sense for once and finish that section he had been holding off for weeks. Sometimes, the coffee shop would have a slow evening - no problematic customers or long lines to botch, only the soothing tones of a John Coltrane solo and the pervading scent of Arabian-blend coffee in a mostly empty cafe.

The riot that engulfed Beacon after the bus carrying the boisterous old man and his dominat- er,_ disciplinarian_ coworker blended into the urban jungles of Vale was still fresh in his mind, happening not three days ago. Which led to multiple suspensions, a school buried three feet in toilet paper, and his current situation: A grand total of 168, now 109, hours of genuine free time.

So what did he do with his first dose of liberation in months? Why, surf the Internet, of course. The rest of the world can wait - but that Amazon sale won't be around for long!

So engrossed was the man in his hunt for online marketware that he failed to notice the door behind him opening, then closing shut. Or the footsteps fast approaching him. He did, however, notice the small, warm hands planted on either shoulder. Before he can turn his head towards the intruder, however, it spoke up.

"What'cha looking at?"

"Gah!"

Never had he minimized Chrome faster in his life than now.

"Damn it, Rubes," Jaune struggled to mutter in between keeping his pulse under control, "didn't I tell you not to sneak up on me like that?" He swiveled the office chair to fully face the new arrival when the hands let go. "And to answer your question: Why should you care?"

Rubes, or Ruby Rose, folded her arms with a pout. "Aww, why so secretive about it, Jaune? Don't tell me…" she gasped dramatically. "You were looking at porn, weren't you…?"

He'd have preferred replying with a resounding "No!", rather than the vaguely negatively-toned sputtering that came out of his mouth in response.

"Gotcha~" she teased.

As the shock wore off and the tension left his body, he sighed, defeated. "You're not gonna believe me when I say I wasn't looking at porn earlier, are you."

"Not until you tell me exactly what it was you were doing, mister!"

"Can't you be satisfied with what I've already said?"

The shortstack only raised an eyebrow in response. Every sigh felt like five years had been shaved off his life - which makes it ten, now, as he sighed a second time.

"Fair enough."

Her impish smile grew into a shit-eating grin. He fully conceded the argument by turning back to the desktop, switching to Chrome. Maybe he can get some actual work done now that his friend was here.

"Anyways," he started, hands already gliding from key to key, "you're early today. I thought the orphanage lets you out by five?" He briefly glanced at the wall clock. "And it's still half past eleven."

Ruby had already settled on his sofa with an audible thud when she replied, "Nope! Not today, at least. I got Father Mulberry to give me a day off from handling the kids."

Disbelief colored his voice. "A _volunteer _asking for a day-off?"

"Hey, don't judge! I've had a perfect attendance streak until now, and I really did need to get some of my coursework done before midterms. By the way, that bag of books you lent me were _heavy_!"

Jaune heard the familiar sound of a hermetically sealed jar being opened, likely that batch of cookies he baked yesterday. He chose to ignore the loss of his confectioneries for a more pressing detail: "Rubes, midterms aren't until next year. And what's this about bringing my books with you?"

The mental image of a five-footer struggling to carry a bag of books easily a fourth of her weight was admittedly hilarious - but he felt more worry over her back than anything else. And confusion over why she would bring college books to an orphanage in the first place, of course.

"I, uh… wanted to do some advanced… reading?" she meekly replied, in between bites of chocolate chip cookie.

"...Right," Jaune lied. "Whatever you say."

"Hey!" Ruby replied indignantly. "You're making fun of me inside your little peabrain, aren't you?!"

"Whatever you say, Rubes. Whatever you say."

He didn't need to look behind him to see the cute grumpy face his friend tends to make when she's pissed off. Hearing her growl like a tiny corgi puppy - for around three seconds before she continued her assault on his cookie jar - was sweet, frothy icing on a fresh cinnamon roll. Always made him smile.

"Besides," Ruby continued, "Father Mulberry's a good man, and a friend. He'd have understood either way, I'm sure of it!"

Oh boy, not this again. "Leaving aside whether or not you actually came here to study, you can't just call everybody you've met a friend."

"First of all, we've already been through this," Ruby countered, voice clear of baked goods. Had she really emptied the whole jar by now? "Second, yes I can if they're good people - and Father's a congenial, senile old coot who's known my name for half a year now, so no issues there.

"And lastly," she finished bemusedly, "you're one to talk, Mr. 'Strangers are friends you haven't met yet'!"

Jaune palmed himself in embarrassment, hands finally off keyboard and work. Seventh Grade Jaune was an immature brat with zero foresight, to put simply. "That was nine years ago, Rubes," he said as he settled his weight against the plush backrest. "People say stupid things all the time when they're young. And I know _you_ know about the sort of disasters I had gotten myself into with that kind of logic."

"Aww, don't be such a sourpuss, Jaune," happily replied his friend. "You did turn lots of strangers into friends in high school! There's Weiss-"

"She threatened to file a restraining order against me after that one Valentines, Rubes," Jaune sullenly remarked about his… mutual acquaintance. "That man-in-black she carried around with her for a month after didn't help, either."

"How about, uh…" Ruby dithered, seemingly hesitant. "Blake?"

"Not after I lost her smut and tried giving her canned tuna to make up for it. Never noticed how we never talked to each other until grad practice?"

"Really? Huh." Was his friend always this ignorant? "Oh! You're friends with Nora, right?"

"More like 'Ren's friends are Nora's,' so no."

"Aha!" Ruby exclaimed. "So you did make friends with Ren."

"And do you really think he didn't just put up with Nora's 'Catch of the Day' all this time?"

"...Point."

Jaune held out from groaning, though his discipline, and patience, was growing thin. Maybe it was because Ruby kept reminding him of all the big mistakes he had made years ago just to prove her point. Nobody likes to remember how bad they used to be, right?

…Or perhaps it was because he realized that she was working out of a shortlist, and that her next item could only be-

"Then maybe… Pyr-"

"Ruby. Please." His reserve slipped, voice both forceful and cracked.

A soft gasp chimed behind him. Jaune didn't notice; his thoughts were elsewhere.

_Pyrrha._

He slunk deeper into the office chair.

Funny how something like a name can change so easily. It can flow like rich, thick honey from his lips one moment and taste like so much ash the next. He wondered why it had so much pull over him and his life, dredging up memories that took years to bury with all the effort of lifting a finger.

Jaune thought he had grown past melodrama… But he could swear he saw them like they happened yesterday. Everything played like a well-preserved film reel: The happy days and moonlit nights, the convos that stretched through the night, the little gifts they shared…

"-aune. Jaune!"

He returned to the real world with ringing eardrums and the familiar warmth of small hands, this time gripping firmly on his upper arm as she shook him to and fro.

Then she locked her arms together and trapped him between them and the cushy backrest. His disheveled blond hair felt a chin settle directly atop it. And… was she nuzzling his hair?

Somehow, he couldn't decide whether the impromptu hug or her latest impression of a puppy felt better.

"I'm sorry," Ruby murmured. "Forgot about the whole business between you and… you know…" She trailed off.

Confused more than anything, he chose to simply clasp his hands with hers. Broad and calloused, one of them could easily dwarf both of hers.

"It's alright, Rubes. You didn't mean it."

Jaune felt his friend's mouth quirk upwards. His own smile must have shown, since the armlock had tightened slightly. The self-professed loner had a mind to wiggle free from her grasp, but for some reason she wouldn't budge. Not that he minded that much, though. Ruby's little gesture did cheer him up a bit. Maybe he should humor her weird antics - just this once, of course.

He was in the middle of rubbing aimless circles on the back of her hands when she chose to break the comfortable silence.

"You're wrong, by the way."

Brows furrowed, perplexed. "On what?"

"You made _one_ stranger into a friend. Really good haul, too."

...No use arguing against her at this point, exhausted as he was. He might as well ask her directly instead of pussyfooting around. "And _who_ exactly is this special someone of mine, Rubes?"

"Not telling. And you're a dummy if you can't figure it out yourself."

Trust Ruby to not resist making an insult half her supposed maturity. For some reason, she seemed more… serious, this time. He'd call her bluff regardless.

"Then I'll happily call myself a dummy if you tell me the name of my supposed friend."

If her futile attempts to turn her hug into a stranglehold were anything to go by, she didn't like the answer.

"Dummy," she whined. "You stupid, stupid dummy…!"

…Alright, this was getting ridiculous. As he kept a firm grip on her small, struggling hands, ignoring the juvenile curses she sent his way, Jaune wondered if he should calm his snarling friend down - but how can he do that without being left with a sulky Ruby for hours? Decisions, decisions…

Fortuitously, a loud grumbling interrupted their little fight.

Jaune tilted his head upwards, eyes narrowed accusingly at his friend.

As he found out, Ruby's ruby-red face was staring intently at something interesting on the wall.

"...I'm hungry," she finally said, after an awkward pause.

"Ever had breakfast yet?"

Her silence was all he needed to know.

"I… I was in a hurry when I left my house, you see…"

Now what could she have been in a hurry for that warranted skipping the most important meal of the day? He considered pressing her for more details - something about this worried him.

But on the other hand, _he_ was hungry too. And drained, for that matter. Jaune glanced back at the clock. Quarter of twelve. They'll be having lunch an hour later, at this rate. This situation called for something simple and easy to prepare.

He stood up, disentangling himself from her limbs. "I'll go get started on lunch," he said. "Hope you like Spam omelette with baked beans."

And just like that, his friend's boundless energy returned. "_All-day breakfast for lunch?!_" she shouted with glee. "Can, can we also have-"

"Not unless you want to wait an hour before we can eat, Rubes. If you're really hungry, there's some buttered croissants and sliced apple in the fridge."

As he expected, Ruby blanched at the thought of eating continental. "Don't tell me you have live snails hiding there too… Do you?"

"Well, if you really wanted to try out _escargot_…"

While the meat lover grumbled and pouted over not getting her way, Jaune switched his workstation off, the silent hum of its cooling fans dying down to a halt. Productivity will have to wait until after his friend is sated and sent off. So much for a night of peace and quiet…

"Fine!" she conceded begrudgingly. "Now scram!"

Jaune protested at being herded out of his own bedroom. "H-Hey, what are you-"

"Taking a quick shower," she interrupted, as if stating the obvious. "You better be done by the time I get out, bub!"

"Do you even _have _a spare change of clothes?"

She shrugged. "A t-shirt's big enough, isn't it?"

With that, she slammed the wooden door shut. And locked it, judging by the audible click.

He sighed for the third time that afternoon, cutting his life expectancy by a total of fifteen years.

"I swear, that pipsqueak will be the death of me someday," Jaune said to himself, smiling softly.

But he never regretted having her around. Never will, either.

As he made his way to the kitchen, an idle thought struck him: Did she notice the tabs left open in his browser earlier?

…Then again, she'd have said something if that were the case. Ruby was earnest and straightforward like that. _Then again_, she could just as likely have chosen that moment to keep shut for the first time in her life? Worry and doubt gnawed at the back of his mind.

After all, he wouldn't want to explain to anyone why he spends his time in the Internet browsing for diamond rings. Especially not to Ruby.

Jaune hurriedly shook his thoughts out. Getting distracted while cooking is a recipe for disaster. He'll cross that bridge, if- no, _when_ the time comes.

…

Later that night, Jaune Arc dreamed of small, warm hands.

One of them wore a simple diamond ring.


	2. Chapter 2-1

Jaune hummed jaunty tunes to himself as he inspected the foodstuffs and ingredients splayed all over the countertop. A brief glance on the notepad he was carrying told him all that he needed, in their exact quantities.

'_Let's see_,' he thought. _'Milk? Check. Flour? Check. Cocoa powder? Should be enough. Eggs? Eh, short one's not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm making a cake for a whole party, anyhow.._.'

On the contrary, the loner college student was baking a cake for himself. If there _were_ one such party, then it would be one with "Jaune Arc", in elegant, yellow cursive as the sole name in its list of attendees.

Learning to do something himself is better and far more rewarding than paying someone to do the same thing, as Jaune quickly found out in his first few days of living alone. Money was far more precious than time, and tutorials for just about every solution to common problems were _mostly_ free thanks to the Internet. Given the two, "going DIY," so to speak, both is intellectually stimulating and makes far more financial sense than, say, wondering if he can eat for the next three days because he had spent your savings on tech support for a glitch that was easily solved with a reboot.

As a disclaimer, the last example was _completely hypothetical_ and in no way happened.

Anyway, the same logic can be applied to making pastries. Why pay $100 at the least for a whole cake when he can easily spend a quarter of that to buy ingredients in bulk, then spend at most three hours total looking for a good recipe and baking it? Basic financial literacy doesn't sound as catchy as "common sense", but anyone would know when they're getting stiffed - so why does everyone else _still_ give attention to those hacks from that overpriced cakeshop in Downtown?!

Jaune breathed deep through his nostrils. Pursuing a vendetta now means he won't be able to start with the cake, he reminded himself. For the sake of delicious cake, he will have to set ephemeral things aside. Like that smug, dirt-faced, _mushroom-hatted son of a_-

After having collected his frustrations (and the notepad from the floor), he made for the oven and set one of its dials to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Just the right temperature to preheat the inside with.

As the oven began heating up with a dull, continuous thrum, Jaune grabbed a cake round from the pantry, a stick of butter and some cocoa powder, and set them on the countertop. With a bit of tissue paper he smeared a slice evenly throughout the dull grey surface, starting with the rim and ending at the base. Crumbs of cocoa powder soon coated the surface in rough brownage. Perfect base for the batter. Speaking of which…

Practiced hands reached for a whisk and a large bowl, about half his forearm in diameter. Then he added in the components for the batter, some carefully prepared in glass measuring cups. A cup of flour, a cup of sugar, a cup of cocoa powder - he liked his chocolate extra sweet - some baking powder, some salt, some farm-fresh eggs, buttermilk, hot water, and finally vegetable oil. Once all the ingredients were in the bowl he began mixing them together with the whisk, slowly and thoroughly, until the mixture gained a smooth, rich, dark brown consistency. Not too thick, not too runny - just right for to make a velvety chocolate cake.

The amateur confectioner sighed smilingly as he set the bowl down. Beautiful Sunday morning, the cool January breeze flowing in from an open window, a whole cake that'll taste _fantastic_ after a night in the fridge, and zero requirements for the rest of the week. Day couldn't get any better, Jaune thought.

Then he flinched as the front door was slammed open. A loud, familiar, feminine bellow announced its presence.

"Jaaaaaaaaaune!"

The man in question let out a long sigh. And almost toppled over from the hundred and twenty pounds that latched onto his defenceless back.

Tiny hands shoved a Scroll onto his face. "Takealooktakealooktakealook!" said the girl in one breath.

He leaned away to get a better look at the screen, and saw-

"...Really, Rubes? And no, I'm not making it for you."

"C'mon, Jaune!" Ruby whined. "Don't tell me you've never thought of it at least once?"

"I was raised with the fact that strawberries belong in shortcakes," he replied, nonplussed. "Not on cookies."

"But _strawberry cookies_!" Jaune's ears were ringing at this point. Trust Ruby to give him tinnitus before he had a midlife crisis. "It's like milk and banana: A match made in Heaven!"

"I seriously worry for your health if you think milk and bananas together is good for you."

"Says the guy who's baking-" she raised her head, "-chocolate cake. Extra chocolate, from the looks of it."

"...Fair enough. And when are you gonna get off me? My spine's about to give."

With a huff, she wordlessly climbed down his six feet of height. Now relieved of his friend's weight, Jaune arched his back to the sound of popping joints. Pure bliss.

He turned around to properly face Ruby, only to be met with her pouty face. Sorry, her "angry" face.

"So you think I've gotten fatter, huh?" the 120-pounder accused, tiny hands clenched into tiny fists. Were it possible, her pout deepened. "Is that what you're saying, Jaune?"

He looked away. "I plead the fifth." God bless the Constitution, ain't he right?

Ruby growled - whether by instinct or with effort, Jaune honestly couldn't tell - and gave him the universal "I'm watching you" hand gesture: A crooked victory sign pointed at her own eyes, then at his.

Sigh. "That aside, how _did_ you get in? I thought I locked the door."

His friend rummaged her pockets before drawing up a key. Followed by a second.

"...Remind me not to make the same mistake with other people, Rubes."

Her face beamed. "First and last time, I swear!"

* * *

"So why _are _you baking a cake, Jaune?" Ruby asked as he poured the batter onto the cake round. She had seated herself on the dining table after the earlier ruckus, choosing to watch him go about making chocolate cake.

Jaune eyeballed the container, noticing that the batter had just gone past the halfway point. Satisfied, he set the remaining mixture aside.

"...I just felt like making one," he eventually replied. That was a question with no easy answer - or at least, an answer he was comfortable divulging.

His friend hummed in thought beside him. "I don't believe you," she concluded.

His eyebrows raised in response. "And what makes you think of that?" he asked as he put some mittens on.

She narrowed her eyes at his direction. "Have you ever baked something for no good reason?"

"You'd be surprised at the things the stomach can compel a man to do, Rubes."

Jaune opened the warm oven cover and carefully placed the cake round inside. It closed shut with a loud click.

"So all the cookies you had lying around you made just because? And here I thought you're not the type to waste."

He bristled at her accusatory tone. Mittens in hand, he glanced halfway to rebut his friend directly. "First of all, of course I'm not. Second, you're not the only one who eats cookies here."

"Liar. I had to _make_ you eat them last time, remember?"

…Jaune wisely kept silent. Mostly because being force-fed by a rather insistent Ruby was a memory he preferred to put behind him, if only out of embarrassment.

He tried hard not to think of how close her peppermint breath was to his face. Our how her fingers sent tingles pulsing through his body whenever they grazed his lips. Or how warm and soft her thi-

"Aha!" Ruby shouted, as if she had struck eureka. "So you _do_ bake cakes and cookies for a reason."

"Not going to answer that, Rubes."

A grumble and a pout, followed by hands raised in the air. "Fine then!" his friend snapped. "See if I'll care anytime soon. Stupid dummy…" She folded her arms and looked away as her words devolved into incoherent muttering.

Silence took hold as Jaune checked the timer. Forty five more minutes to go. He should have enough time to make the frosting - and somehow resolve the other, hundred twenty-pound elephant in the room.

Maybe he pushed her buttons a tad bit too much? But wouldn't it be her fault for being so nosy? He did just keep himself from answering questions he shouldn't.

Another sigh left his lips. Friends can be a curse at times, he realized yet again. Especially if they were as fussy as Ruby.

He took another bowl from the dish rack before washing his whisk with running water. Wouldn't do to mix raw cake mix with something as easy to mess up as frosting, after all.

"Hey," Jaune's friend finally spoke. He hummed a reply.

"When's today again?"

The college student pondered the question for a moment, before shrugging and taking a quick look at the wall-mounted calendar. "January 5th."

Even as his attention was occupied with taking stock of his remaining ingredients - just enough sugar and cocoa powder, more than enough cream cheese and butter, he'll manage just fine with milk from the fridge - Jaune can still pick up bits and pieces of Ruby's not-so-subtle murmurs.

"New Year's, MLK Day… No other holidays for the month… Unless it's…!"

Then he suddenly heard a loud, high-pitched gasp.

"...You alright, Rubes?" A faint tinge of worry briefly flashed on Jaune's face as he pivoted towards her spot on the table.

Silver as wide as dinner plates locked gazes with his blue. "And why are you staring at me like you just saw a poltergeist?"

His words must've broken her out of a trance, since she immediately slumped against the veneered wooden surface like a marionette with its strings cut.

"...It's nothing," the redhead pitifully murmured.

"Al… right then?"

Jaune wasn't sure how to take his friend's sudden mood whiplash. Taking a seat next to her to ask her what's wrong was an option - she looked like she needed some cheering up. Last thing he wanted was to see his usually hyperactive friend, with sunshine and roses seemingly as her default state, mope and sulk around any longer than he should. The dull throbbing in his chest whenever his gaze landed on her sad figure wholeheartedly agreed.

Leaving her be was option number two. Ruby always seemed to get over her sadness-es quickly - quicker than he, at least, where he'd spend weeks chewing himself out over lost opportunities and counterfactuals. No doubt she'll get over this one just as easily, with or without his intervention. She was a tough cookie like that. Besides, that frosting won't make itself!

Jaune pursed his lips in frustration. This was a genuinely difficult dilemma to resolve. What to do, what to do…

The dull sound of wood scraping against ceramic disrupted his little internal debate. Apparently Ruby had decided for the indecisive man when she _leapt over three feet of table and landed precisely in front of him_. He took a step back, only to find himself staring at a no-nonsense frown and silver eyes that seemingly glowed as they drilled holes on his head.

Before the now-thoroughly confused man can get some answers from his apparently pissed-off friend, the latter cut him off with a request:

"Teach me how to bake a cake."

Did… Did he hear her right?

"I… I'm sorry?" Jaune hesitantly offered.

Still frowning, Ruby shook her head. "Teach me how to bake a cake." The redhead didn't sound like she'd accept no for an answer. "That's your apology."

Both his eyebrows raised at his friend's words. Who said anything about an apology? "Ruby-"

The redhead's hands shot forward to grab the ties of his apron, pulling him closer. Her glare never wavered.

"I'm serious, Jaune. Teach me. Or I'll…"

All the man could do in his position was stare helplessly at his irate friend, searching for answers only to find nothing but a demand backed by an unspoken threat. Her features belied no hesitation - Ruby _was_ serious about wanting to be taught. Whether the same applied to… whatever that was at the end, he didn't want to find out.

So with a nervous, wordless nod, Jaune gave in.

For the first time since this whole debacle began, his friend smiled. "Good."

And he suddenly found himself the recipient of yet another tackle-hug. All pretense of threat melted like spring snow as the little redhead planted her red head and right cheek on his chest. Scrawny arms snaked towards his broad back, grappling and squeezing for all they were worth. Tired, exhausted, and lacking in air, Jaune could only run one of his own hands up and down her back, the other holding her nape in a gentle grip. From the way she squirmed with the slow, firm motions, Ruby must've appreciated the way he returned her little… gesture.

Jaune couldn't tell exactly how long she kept the hug - a distant corner in his mind noticed a sharp ding from the oven - and, to tell the truth, he didn't really care.

There was something both therapeutic and mesmerising, he came to realize, in the simple act of returning a hug. Time and hunger and obligations and speaking and other such things become petty concerns, distant seconds to the atavistic need to luxuriate in the warmth and tenderness of another human being.

…For a brief moment, he couldn't imagine parting with her strawberry-scented hair; nor with her smooth, creamy white skin; or with her faint pulse, which he swore had beat in synch with his…

Alas, all good things must come to an end. His friend broke the tranquil first when she mumbled into his apron.

"...s'ry."

Jaune chose to slow his back rubs to a halt, letting a hand rest on her upper back. He breathed deep, savoring the smell of sweet, fruity strawberry. Ruby had fine taste in shampoo, he can now say with full confidence.

Now that the both of them had calmed down, he might be able to wrangle a few answers out from her.

"Why do you want to bake a cake, anyways?" Jaune asked.

To that Ruby flashed one of her winning smiles. (He thought they looked more appropriate on a cheeky brat than on a college-age adult.)

"No good reason," she simply said.

Jaune fought the urge to groan. He failed.

"Hypocrite."

The smile never faltered.

* * *

**A/N: Felt like continuing with another oneshot. This one's supposed to be longer, but I had to cut it in half because the chapter up to this point had gotten as big as the first. Expect 2,2 sometime soon.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**


	3. Chapter 2-2

Jaune carefully analyzed the situation he found himself in. A sitrep, if he will.

Location? A large mall in downtown Vale on a Sunday noon, packed full of passersby with money to spend and time to waste.

Destination? Walmart. The branch a hop and skip away from his apartment, and the other three they passed by on the way to the mall, apparently didn't count.

Objective? Enough ingredients for to bake a triple-layer strawberry cake. ("And some other things, too!" a certain someone hastily added.)

Rationale? To fulfill his end of the bargain. And "reparations" - for what, she still wouldn't divulge.

Casualties? His wallet. Dear God, how he grieved for his wallet.

Support elements? A five-foot-four, hundred twenty-pound redhead clinging tightly to his right arm as they walked the length of a spacious hall, humming happily to herself without a care in the world.

Expected outcome? Pyrrhic victory. Objective(s) achieved at disproportionate losses to both free time and available money.

Damn it, Rubes!

"You're thinking something stupid again, aren't you?"

The vice grip on his arm tightened as narrowed eyes glared at him from below. Sigh.

"It's called 'wondering if I can survive the next week', Rubes. Cakes aren't exactly cheap to make, you know."

Jaune had hoped to shop for the week's groceries at the same time - might as well while he's there, right? - but his friend's peculiar request added three cake layers of expenses, and perhaps others not related to cake. Maybe he should cut his cookie quota by half to compensate? He can take the dirty glares sent his way until the next paycheck. Probably.

"Oh, don't worry your head about it, Jaune!" she airily replied. "'Sides, I said I'll treat you to lunch, hadn't I?"

Oh, right. Lunch. Well, as they said: Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

"I have my ATM card at the ready once you back out. Just say the word and I'll burn my hard-earned Benjamins for some delicious Taco Bell."

Watching Ruby's fair-skinned face scrunch in disgust at hearing that sham of a fast food chain's name was a guilty pleasure the college student relished.

"Taco Bell?" She made a show of shivering in disgust. "I take care of my body better than that, you goofus!"

Ruby Rose? _Conscious of her health_? Jaune repressed a snort.

"I'm surprised you even take care of your body at all," he rebutted. "How many cookies have you 'appropriated' this week, again?"

Ruby gave him what he could only describe as a deadpan look. "And when was the last time you went to the gym, huh?"

"...No comment."

His friend's face glowed in smug satisfaction.

"And for your information, we're going someplace fancy later. Friend's recommendation." She increased her pace, dragging his arm along. "Now come on! We're almost there."

Jaune almost stumbled before he regained his footing, eventually matching his pace with hers. With the conversation having been brought to a close, he busied himself with observing the stalls and crowds they passed by.

Come to think of it, he never saw the appeal of spending a whole Sunday in the mall. Just about everything this oversized, overblown temple of American consumerism was advertised to deliver can be done cheaper and about as well by other means and other, smaller establishments.

Want food? Order takeout from the thousands of fast food restaurants (and even some legitimate restaurants) scattered all over the city - or better yet, learn how to cook. Shopping for groceries? The average Joe will have driven past a hundred other supermarkets by the time they get here. Want to cool down? Why not have a little picnic under the shade of a tree in the public park or, failing that, buy a personal cooling fan and never leave the comfort of home?

That entire families still congregate within its sterile, soulless walls and glass panes like throngs of zealots in a pilgrimage, in spite of the basic facts, boggled Jaune's mind to no end.

And, in extension, the fact that his happy friend decided to do groceries here, of all places. Either she was as indifferent to her budgetary woes as the rest of mankind… or she was hiding an ulterior motive. Wouldn't put it past her either, with the shiftiness she'd shown ever since he agreed to tutor her in baking strawberry cake.

Despite his frustrations, the loner smiled to himself. Forthcoming and enigmatic at the same time - that fit Ruby Rose to a T, alright. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Jaune's musings were interrupted when his guide suddenly stopped.

A giant, backlit Walmart sign taunted him from on high.

"We're here!" Ruby cheered in delight.

If only he can share the same enthusiasm. As it was, his mind only cycled between grumbling over the ludicrous taxi fare and despairing over the death of his savings account.

"...I'll go look for a cart," Jaune eventually said. "You can head up front and grab some strawberries. A pound or two will suffice. I'll meet up with you once I get some baking soda and flour."

A well-established routine: He gets a cart and loads it up with the things he needs, and Ruby comes back to unload armfuls of things he doesn't need. At least he can guide her into helping him pick ingredients for the cake this time.

As thoughts over which brand of flour to purchase raged in Jaune's mind - should he pick King Arthur this time? Or maybe stick with Pillman? - the amateur confectionaire began to amble towards the supermarket's sliding door.

Only to realize an arm refused to follow the rest of his body. The culprit puffed her cheeks, probably to express her displeasure, and clung almost possessively to his ennervated limb.

"I'm coming with," she said simply, her tone tinged with finality.

...No use arguing with her on that. Jaune had already been chewed out by an unusually insistent Ruby earlier; he didn't have the energy to sit through a repeat. Besides, she'd be better off knowing which brands to pick and where to find them, so it'll still work out in his favor.

"Still got the list?" he asked.

His friend fished for something in her pocket with a free hand, then pulled out a Scroll and waved it in front of him. "Right here!"

Jaune nodded. "The sooner we finish shopping, the sooner we eat, the sooner we leave. Let's go inside."

Eyes sparkling silver as they entered arm in arm, Ruby chirped, "And the sooner we finish, the sooner we can dine on some prime steak!"

Warning bells immediately rang all over Jaune's head. "Do you even _have_ enough cash to burn on prime steak for the both of us?"

Silver eyes glazed, staring wantonly at something in the distance. A head burrowed deep into his arm as its owner squealed in longing delight.

"Mmm… Juicy, succulent steak… I can taste it already…!"

…Damn it, Rubes.

* * *

The short hand had just hit three when Jaune and his tag-along friend returned from their impromptu shopping trip. Bags of foodstuff dangled from the college student's gripped-white fists as he made a hurried dash for the kitchen table right after the door opened, dumping them ingloriously on top of hard, polished wood. Wheezing, he crashed onto the nearest chair.

Ruby chose that moment to stroll placidly into view, carrying a weightless cardboard box with both her hands. Whistling and humming sounded from her diminutive figure as she set her box beside his grocery bags with gentle care.

Oh, how a man can relish in the afterglow of pricey steak and air conditioning without several dozen pounds of grocery tearing his arms from their sockets.

Azure glared balefully at silver, unamused. "You're a lazy ass, you know that?"

If the midget had heard him, she didn't show it. "So when are we gonna bake, chief?" she asked lightheartedly.

"Give me a couple minutes to catch my breath." Jaune winced as pain shot from a sore arm, rubbing the offending spot gingerly with his free hand. "Christ, I think I pulled on a muscle too hard…"

Without a word, Ruby drew out and sat on a chair next to his, facing the window. Cheek resting against an open palm, she gazed at the afternoon sky, a light blue with cottony white wisps scattered here and there, just beyond the glass panes. Light breaths mingled with the steady ticks of the wall clock to set the room's faint, yet no less omnipresent ambiance. Usually they would be smothered by his friend's excited, silly little commentaries (and a playlist that betrayed her awful taste); this time, however, she seemed content to let the burgeoning silence stew.

"You sure know your stuff about cakes," she finally said, head cocked slightly towards him. "Cookies, too."

Now what kind of out-of-the-blue question was that? Regardless, Jaune's answer was as straightforward as it was obvious.

"I like to bake. All there is to it, really."

And her tittered rejoinder was as gleeful as it was puerile. "Who'd have thought such a stick in the mud would like to make pretty cakes every now and then? And I can't remember you being this good at it back in Signal."

For starters, he was a lot more willing to learn baking for its own sake now than in Signal High. Chasing skirts never meshed well with Miss Peach's classes for Old Jaune - and justifiably so. But Ruby didn't need to know that.

"Lot of time to practice when you're living alone," he instead explained. "Try rehearsing for Home Ec with seven sisters nagging at your back."

"_No thank you!_" Ruby yelped, head vigorously shaking left to right and back. "One sister's more than enough for Ruby Rose to handle!"

A choked laugh left Jaune's lips, though his half-grin still showed. The two of them had few things in common, and apparently an exasperation over sisterly antics was one of them. He can sympathize; the loner loved his sisters to death, but if he had a penny for every time they pestered him about Old Jaune's multiple failed attempts to get hooked…

"I wish I knew how to bake cookies," his friend continued, a finger idly tracing spirals on the smooth surface. "Then I could've made a lot of them myself, just for myself. House would be packed full of cookies, day in, day out, topped with jugs of fresh, cold milk. Couldn't get any better than that!

"Well…" She paused, as if mulling over what to say next, before resuming. "Maybe I can give a couple to a friend every once in a while, if I feel like sharing. So he'll say, 'Aww, how nice of you, Ruby! Thanks a lot!' and I'll get all warm and fuzzy inside for the rest of the day. Baking something for someone to enjoy sounds nice, don'tcha think?"

Maybe, Jaune thought. Despite now knowing how to make pastries, he had yet to actually offer someone a proper sample of his work. Not that he'd want to anytime soon, though. Speaking from experience, gift-giving tended not to go well for him.

A soft sigh broke past the growing fog in his head. Turning to the source, he saw Ruby, hands still, eyes glazed and cloudy. As seconds ticked away behind them, her calm visage morphed into something more… forlorn.

"Shame that won't happen anytime soon," his friend muttered, almost too quiet for him to pick up. "Mom could've taught me way back, but…"

…Now that she mentioned it, Ruby wasn't one to talk about her family, was she? At least, this was the first time she mentioned her mother. Her apparently sole sister only came up sparingly, both then and now. And… That was it. No father, no uncles or aunts, and no grandparents either. Jaune was tempted to ask, if nothing else, about who she lived with all this time - but seeing her in this somber a state gave him pause. And an uncomfortable inkling of her likely answer. He hoped he thought wrong.

But for now, the loner settled with shaking the doldrums off his friend.

"Cakes are just as much lumps of flour as cookies. People tend to learn one with the other."

"...Thanks, Jaune."

Relief welled up through him when he saw her smile return. Frowns and misery never suited his friend at all.

"Don't mention it."

He stifled a yawn. The roller-coaster of emotions this day had been so far was getting to him. A nap should do the trick - twenty, maybe thirty minutes at most. Then they can get to work on the cake. Prep work shouldn't take much time to complete, so the cake would take roughly two hours from start to finish. If they're fast enough, he can take time to clean up, catch thirty more winks, and get to preparing supper. He can sleep in full once Ruby leaves with a meal on her stomach.

Satisfied with the little timetable he set up, Jaune nestled his head on the crook of his crossed arms lying flat on the surface. His eyes were quick to close shut. Not as warm as he preferred, but it'll do. Bed and sofa were for sleeping the full eight hours, anyway. And he wasn't planning on sleeping. Yes... Just a quick nap…

…

...Jaune felt something lightly jostle his side. A quick inspection with one bleary eye revealed that the cause was someone.

"You can't go to sleep yet, silly," the culprit softly chided him. Going by the quirk on her lips, she seemed more amused than annoyed.

"Mmh."

"We still have a cake to bake."

"Hm."

"And you're a heavy sleeper."

"...Ngh."

A pearly white grin. "You won't wake up even if I rolled your lazy butt around like a log. Wanna bet?"

...Deep breath. Four seconds. And dragged-out, exhaled air. Reluctantly, Jaune rose up, a hand coming up to rub his eyes.

"Aprons are in the upper pantries," he muttered resignedly.

In contrast, Ruby practically shot up from her chair, all trace of her sullen mood from earlier gone.

"Got it!"

And so she dashed to the other end of his apartment room, where his kitchenware were placed in ordered rows, compartments, and stacks.

While the redhead searched for his apron (and a spare), reaching for the handles high above as she stood on her toes, Jaune took the time to let out a yawn and stretch away at least some of his weariness. He'll need as little as possible for the next few hours.

Fatigue was never an issue Jaune had to face in the kitchen. But Ruby had other plans, and just like earlier, she didn't take "No" for an answer.

* * *

**A/N: Still not finished with this chapter, my apologies. But here's an extra 2.5k words as recompense. **

**Next upload should, hopefully, bring Chapter 2 to a close. I'll see if I can finish the last third sometime next week.**


End file.
